


Our Right

by writing1swat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Collars, M/M, Master/Slave, Slavery, WIP, dystopian setting, rating may go up as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1752620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing1swat/pseuds/writing1swat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to this prompt: <strong>http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/85765.html?thread=32890885#t32890885</strong> </p><p>In a dystopian world where Angels enslaved humanity, Castiel finds a runaway human pet with green eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I slightly modified the prompt for the story but overall idea was not changed. I am also not certain how long this fill will be.

Dean knew he shouldn’t have run but he couldn’t help it.

Dean was tired of being cooped up in Michael’s mansion. Sure, it was big and fancy, just the way Michael liked it, but Dean always got lonely when he was left in his room while Michael was away on a business trip. Sometimes Michael took Dean with him to conventions but it was mostly so that the Archangel could show off his lovely, obedient pet to all the other Angels and occasional free man. Even during those times where Dean would happily sit at Michael’s feet, lavished in his owner’s usually diverted attention, Dean still felt far away from Michael.

It wasn’t that Michael was a bad owner, he just seemed far busier with other things than Dean. He showered Dean with extravagant gifts but Dean couldn’t remember the last time he pet his head or praised Dean for being good. Dean was just there, a human for Michael to show the rare friend and family that swung by the mansion. Dean didn’t want to live like that the rest of his life if he could help it, so one night when Michael was out on another business trip, Dean ran.

He didn’t really have a destination in mind. All the places seemed the same to him. For longer than Dean was alive, Angels had ruled the world. Most humans were pets, like Dean, some born into it and others taken at an early age. Dean was four when he was taken. He couldn’t remember what his parents looked like, the ones that gave birth to him. But that was okay because Dean was sure he would never run into them again. He imagined his mom had the same color hair he did though, which was a dark blonde. She must have also had his eye color which Michael told him were hazel.

Dean didn’t look in the mirror much but even if he did, he still wouldn’t be able to tell the colors on his own. He knew his hair color and his eye color because Michael told him. Humans like Dean didn’t need to learn things like colors, though he had been told by various people like the maids and butlers, that the sky was something called blue, the grass was green, the sun was a bright yellow. 

As Dean walked through the city, he felt self-conscious of all the Angels walking their collared humans. Dean unconsciously fingered his own collar that was still around his neck. He was sure it read something like ‘Property of Michael’. Dean didn’t know how to read. It was another one of those things that humans didn’t need to learn but he had seen Michael's name enough times. Dean stood out. He was walking around with a collar and barefooted with no owner in sight.

He got a couple glares from passing Angels. It made Dean want to lower his gaze, hunch his shoulders, make himself somehow smaller. It felt wrong to be out here by himself. His instincts were screaming for him to turn around and head back to the mansion. It would still be a couple more days before Michael was due back. Dean would have time. But he kept walking.

Dean had his head down so he wasn’t looking where he was going when he bumped into her, an Angel with pretty, long hair and blue eyes. The name to the color of her hair was lost on him as he stumbled over his apology. Dean was so stupid. He should have been looking where he was going. You only kept your head down, a sign of submission, when you were with your owner because it wouldn’t matter then since he would be guiding you to the next destination. Michael wasn’t here to guide Dean so Dean had to do that for himself.

“It’s okay,” the Angel said gently, brushing a stray hair from Dean’s face. The Angel noticed Dean’s collar and asked, “Are you lost? Where’s your Master?”

Dean felt his face flush in shame and looked down, remembering that he was running away from his owner.

“Hey, it’s okay. Look at me,” the Angel said. When Dean looked up, the Angel continued, “I’m going to assume you’re lost and you don’t have a place to stay. If that’s the case, then I know a great place that can help you. They take in lost pets. Do you want to come?”

Dean hesitated. He was getting tired and hungry and his feet hurt. A place to rest up wouldn’t be so bad. He nodded.

The Angel beamed. “Great! My name is Anna by the way. What do I call you?” She held out her hand.

“Dean,” Dean whispered before taking her hand.

It was some kind of shelter for lost humans. Dean took a sip of his hot cocoa and looked around. There were a couple humans like Dean sitting at tables with their own mugs of cocoa, wearing collars from their owners, but there were also a few humans that didn’t have collars.

Anna told him those people were free and were just homeless. The shelter helped all humans, not just pets like Dean. 

The Angels that ran the shelter kept the pets and free people separated to different sides of the room. Dean caught one of the free people scowling at his table. Dean ducked his head down, a flush on his cheeks. He didn’t understand why people looked down on pets like him. If being free was meant to be a good thing, why were these people here instead of having their own places like Angels did? Why were they living off the streets, homeless?

Why did they look so miserable?

If being a pet meant you got to have an owner that cherished you and provided you with shelter and food and the clothes on your back, Dean would gladly stay a pet for the remainder of his life. He just wished that Michael had been that owner.

Being in the shelter wasn’t so bad. Anna was kind and genuinely seemed to like Dean. She didn’t go around showing him off to her friends every chance she got unlike Michael, which always made him feel like a trophy Michael was putting on display rather than a personal pet. She let him help out by providing the food to everybody. It made Dean feel like he wasn’t completely useless.

It also helped that the shelter was full of Angels and humans alike so that Dean didn’t sit around bored all day with no one to talk to.

He made friends with a boy named Kevin who got lost taking the subway one day. He also made a friend in an Angel named Samandriel. Samandriel and Anna were good friends that went a long way back. Dean wasn’t sure with all the details but apparently they met when they were just fledglings, barely able to spread their wings.

It was two weeks into living in the shelter when Castiel walked in.

Dean was going through his daily routine of making the beds and cleaning the bathroom. He heard Anna talking to someone down the hall and couldn’t help but be curious, peeking his head out the bathroom to get a look at who she was talking to. He almost gasped when he saw him.

The Angel was beautiful, more beautiful than Michael had been who was more of rugged handsome than anything with dark hair and brown eyes. This Angel made Michael look almost ordinary in comparison. He had dark hair and the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. He smiled kindly at Anna and whispered something soft in her ear. Dean wished he could have heard what it was the Angel had whispered. 

Then they started to move and Dean went back to cleaning duties, pretending not to notice when the Angels stopped for a moment just outside before walking past to the other rooms. 

He heard the Angel ask, “Who was that?”

“That was Dean. He’s a very good pet,” Anna said.

Dean felt his heart flutter at the offhanded praise.

The Angel with the blue eyes was looking for a pet. His name was Castiel. Dean thought the name suited the Angel. 

He was kind and gentle with all the humans in the shelter, even the free ones that looked down on the pets. Castiel lingered at the doorway to the room Dean was putting away laundry in, watching the human. Dean continued with his chores pretending not to notice the way the Angel was staring at him. Finally Castiel walked in. He sank down on one of the mattresses on the floor.

“You’re doing a good job with that,” he said.

Dean flushed at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“No problem. It’s true,” Castiel responded.

Dean put away the last stack of pants and hangers and turned to look at the Angel. Castiel smiled and stood up. “You know I’ve been around the shelter for a couple days looking for the ideal pet. Someone that was not only good at the housework but would love doing it to please his owner.” He took a step closer and Dean could feel his heart race. “Someone who craved affection as much as I craved giving it out.” 

Dean looked down, feeling his face heat up even more at the words. Castiel seemed to know exactly what to say to make Dean feel self-conscious of himself. It reminded Dean of what it was like being with Michael. The Archangel didn’t seem to notice (or care) Dean’s needs.

“Dean, look at me,” Castiel’s voice rumbled through the room and made Dean snap his head up. The Angel closed the distance in a few quick strides. He reached out and cradled Dean’s head in gentle hands. “I asked Anna about you. She said you lost your owner so she took you here.” He fingered Dean’s collar, turning the tag over so that he could read the name engraved in it. 

“Michael…I know Michael,” Castiel said. Dean trembled but Castiel just tightened his grip and shushed him. “Be still, Dean. All the Angels know of the Archangel, Michael. He is one of the most powerful Angels in all of existence.” He threaded a hand through Dean’s hair. “I also know that if he really cared about something, he would have taken more care not to lose it.”

Castiel continued to stroke Dean’s head. Dean chased after the touch, the sign of affection. Castiel chuckled and said, “Let me take you home, Dean, and show you what it’s like to have a Master who actually cares for his pet.”

Dean felt his breath hitch. It was a tempting offer. Castiel seemed willing to give what Dean had been craving for a long time. Before he could answer, Anna chose that moment to come barreling in. She blinked at the sight of the Angel and human intertwined with each other, before a wide grin broke out on her face.

“Hi, Cas! Dean!” She greeted.

Castiel inclined his head. “Hello, Anna.”

“Have you decided yet?”

“I believe so,” Castiel said not bothering to remove his hands from around Dean. “If Dean so chooses to agree, that is.”

Dean felt his eyes widen at the very idea of having a choice in the matter. It made him want to go with Castiel even more. Both Angels turned to him. Dean licked his lips nervously. Castiel wasn’t another Michael. He was nicer and seemed to care more. Dean decided then. He nodded his head and said, “Yes, I’ll go with you.” What kind of pet would Dean be without an owner anyways?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot has happened and I'm sorry I hadn't updated sooner. Honestly, I'm not sure when the next update will be, if it'll be sooner or later, though I'm hoping it will be sooner than this one had been. Note for this chapter:
> 
> I'm going to try and keep this closer to the show's mythology take on the angels, though since I am not Christian, it won't really be like in the bible. In fact, since it's a dystopian AU in which humans are essentially enslaved to angels, let's just say that most of it has been 'rewritten'.

Castiel’s home was much smaller than Michael’s. Michael’s mansion had dozen rooms and floors where Castiel only seemed to have the bare necessities. He showed Dean around the living area with its one TV, an armchair and a sofa that sat around a low glass table. There was an empty mug placed on top a stack of books that Castiel picked up on his way to the kitchen. He motioned for Dean to keep following him which he did without further hesitation, looking around his new surroundings with great interest.

On the walls were portraits of other Angels. Dean wasn’t sure what significance they had to make Castiel put them but they had to be pretty important. Some of the Angels wielded a sword in one hand and a shield in another. Dean paused at one in particular. The Angel had long hair and wore some sort of metal over his body. His hair and eyes were different but Dean was sure he could place that smile anywhere. He reached up with one hand, fingers hovering just over the surface of the frame, curling, not quite yet touching. It was…

“That is Michael,” Castiel’s voice was almost booming right next to Dean’s ear and he jumped, having forgotten Castiel was there at all. “My dear brother…Michael.” Dean peered up to see Castiel staring up at the picture. Michael didn’t look like Dean’s old Master in the slightest. What Dean remembered was an unsmiling Angel in a suit that never had time for anything except his business. This Angel was…different. As if reading his mind, Castiel said, “He was different back then. I think we all were. I assume you never went to school under Michael’s ownership, did you?”

Dean tilted his head. “No. What is school?” He had never heard of such a thing in his life. There was Michael and wandering the corridors of the mansion waiting for the Angel to get back from his trips, listening in on maids and butlers as best he could but never quite understanding every conversation they had. In the years living with Michael, no one ever mentioned anything about this ‘school’. Dean was sure it was nothing important. What was important was that Dean knew his place among the Angels. 

Castiel’s expression was one Dean couldn’t identify. He didn’t look displeased, nor did he look happy. He seemed to be studying Dean back, arms crossed over his suit. After a moment, seemingly satisfied with what he saw, Castiel nodded to himself and said, “Let me tell you a story then.” He uncrossed his arms slowly, still watching Dean. “Well, history,” he quickly amended.

“What kind of history?” Dean asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

They started to walk again. “Angel history. I’m going to tell you what my Father told me upon creation. In the beginning there was nothing. No planets, no galaxies, no stars. Just nothing. Except God, my Father. There was only God.”

“If there was nothing, how can God be there?”

Castiel said, “He just was. For a long time, my Father lived in endless darkness, in nothingness. One day, he decided he was bored of the darkness and created the first light – the first star. For a while, this one light seemed to please God and like this, with just this one star in the otherwise nothingness, he continued existing. Then he decided one light wasn’t enough so he created the second star. And on and on that went until there were billions of stars.”

Castiel’s tale was mesmerizing. In all of Dean’s life, he had never heard of such a thing. He knew of God, but only vaguely. The Angels all loved their Father and Michael had been no exception, praying to God both during the daytime and night, before meals, going to Church on Sundays. Dean had never been to Church. It was one of the few places Michael never took Dean with him. Listening to Castiel talk about God like this was fascinating. It was hard to imagine a being that was that powerful, that he could create something like light on a small whim. 

It took a good couple hours for Castiel to fill Dean in on some of the history he should have at least known the basics to because while it was mostly Angels’ history, it was human history as well. After God created the first stars, he created the first life. Angels. 

God loved his children dearly and after centuries of watching over them, God decided to give his Angels a gift to show his endless love for them.

“He created humanity to serve his first children,” Castiel told him before laying gentle hands on Dean’s shoulders. 

Michael had been one of the first God created, marking him as one of the oldest and wisest of all the Angels. Castiel showed him to the kitchen’s sink, already piled with unwashed dishes that Dean realized immediately what was expected of him. He turned the water on and got started as Castiel continued with his history lesson, all the while, combing slender fingers through Dean’s hair. It was hard for Dean to concentrate at the task at hand when all he wanted was to think about Castiel’s gentle caresses upon his skin. Shivering slightly Dean continued with the dishes and Castiel seemed not to notice.

There was a hint of reverence in Castiel’s voice when he spoke of his brother. While Castiel had past disagreements with Michael, he loved his brother like only family could. It reminded Dean a little of himself. A part of Dean that loved his old Master still ached for him and probably always will. However the similarities between them stopped there. Where Dean could only guess if Michael had ever truly felt the same way about him, he knew right away that Michael loved Castiel just as much as Castiel loved Michael. The thought had Dean squirming slightly. It was stupid to compare because Dean was just a pet and Castiel was an Angel. And besides that, Dean should be grateful really, to be even considered to be owned by another after he just upped and ran away like a stupid, spoiled pet that didn’t like what he was given.

The first couple of days under Castiel’s ownership flew by in a breeze. Castiel had never owned a human pet before Dean but it was really hard to believe that. Castiel never seemed too awkward around Dean and kept him busy all day and night with cleaning the hall and bathroom, making the beds in the morning and folding up laundry. Castiel was careful to order Dean to do what the Angel had seen Dean do back in the shelter, never making requests that would be impossible or something Dean had never been taught before.

It was such an opposite to being Michael’s pet that it was a little hard to adjust to, though Dean already had weeks of practice in making beds and cleaning floors at the shelter. Returning to sleeping in the same room with the Angel that owned him was like being back at the mansion again, only excluding all the other human maids and butlers running around during the mornings. The first night was really hard to get used to. Dean kept expecting Michael to pop his head around the corner, a looming disapproving shadow when he noticed Dean wasn’t wearing the clothes Michael deemed appropriate for him to sleep in which had been an expensive looking nightgown that seemed to glow in the darkness whenever Dean looked down to inspect it. Michael loved buying Dean clothes and dressing him like he was a doll. Dean didn’t understand why but he didn’t have to. If it got Michael paying attention to him even just slightly, it was enough for Dean.

It didn’t go unnoticed to Dean just how lonely he had been before Castiel, how desperate he seemed to be for a touch to the shoulder, a pat on his head, anything. And he wondered if it should bother him, even just slightly. It did not. Maybe in another lifetime it would have.

Dean was still not quite sure why, of all the lost human pets in the shelter, Castiel picked him. He told him the first time they met, which by now was just a week ago, that there had been something about Dean, in his eyes maybe, his submissive nature, the craving he felt to please and serve, something just drew Castiel to him like a moth to flame.

It might have been something to do with Castiel, himself. His need to dish out orders just the same as Dean’s to take them. Dean dwelled on those thoughts as he put away the books to the bookshelf. Castiel always praised Dean after he finished up the morning chores. It had only been a week and already the two developed a kind of quiet, comfortable routine.

Dean would make the beds once he woke up since Castiel was such an early morning riser, out on a morning run to stretch his wings out so they wouldn’t be cramped later on. Dean had never seen Angel Wings before. Michael never mentioned it and Angels hid their wings from humans when they could. When Dean asked Castiel about it, Castiel said, “Angels rarely ever show their true forms to humans because you normally can’t handle it. It’ll burn your eyes out if you try to look.”

That both scared Dean and made him more curious though he didn’t dare say anything else. He went back to cleaning the kitchen and Castiel went back to reading.


End file.
